


Find Each Other In The Dark.

by SS98



Series: Burning. [3]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: An Adorable Baby Onesie, Angst, Bottom Louis, Boxer Harry, College Student Louis, Dominant Harry, Employed Harry, Engaged Harry, Engaged Louis, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Happy Ending, Innocent Louis, Kickboxer Harry, M/M, Mpreg, Mpreg Louis, Parent Harry, Parent Louis, Pining, Please comment so I know this turmoil over tagging is not worthless, Polaroid cameras, Possessive Behaviour, Possessive Harry, Pregnant Louis, Protective Harry, Sad Louis, Sassy Louis, Self-Hatred, Submissive Louis, Top Harry, Trigger Warnings, True Love, University Student Louis, Violence, badboy harry, cheap apartments, slight though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-13
Updated: 2017-04-13
Packaged: 2018-10-18 09:29:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10614093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SS98/pseuds/SS98
Summary: “Save your breath if you’re about to tell me I can’t see anyone I want.”Harry’s expression hardens, his fists curling at Louis’ sides. “You don’t want to be with him, princess. You want to get back at me for this morning.”“Driving someone to school isn’t crime.” Louis retorts, huffing when Harry’s hand curls around his neck.“As long as that person is you, baby.” Harry places his free hand on Louis’ pert bottom, under the abundance of clothing Louis has falling off his shoulders. He pushes his glasses back on his head, and the emerald storm has abated. “Only you can ride with me because only you will help me change a tyre if we break down. My princess will be the only one to set foot in this ride who is loyal to me and not just my dick.”





	

**Seven Months (prior to proposal).**

Their school had won three visiting football games in the season and had a trio of flashy trophies to display in the most populated hallway that all guests had to walk through. Louis heard there would be one more, the deciding final between their school and one travelling from the coast, to determine who actually deserves the Cup title. The showdown would take place in their trimmed and polished field out back behind the school grounds at five in the afternoon when the cheerleaders were done practicing and Louis is far enough away from the rowdiness.

He enjoyed sporting events as much as the next guy but this morning had sucked all the possible enthusiasm he could have had. Nobody would be able to retain excitement when they had to ride to school with the girl Harry bedded the night before.

Louis was waiting on the creaky swing on his porch when Harry parked down the driveway. He was not expecting to find someone sitting in the back looking fiercely glum at her rejected proposition to sit up front; and Louis felt that his territory had been violated. The only person he didn’t want to sit next to more than Harry was the strange female in little clothing so he took the next best thing and ignored the driver all through the highway. When they came to a halt in the parking lot Louis rushed to jump out and all but shrieked when his arm was held back.

“Get out will you, doll?” Harry jerked his head in the direction of her door, not flinching when she slammed the door on her way out. He could not capture Louis’ attention with the boy staring ahead fixatedly. “Talk to me, princess.”

“I think I’m staying for the game tonight.” Louis says monotonously, failing to yank his arm free. “I’ll catch one of the buses home.”

“Unlikely.” Harry frowns, the blood vessels in his hand protruding through his skin with the effort behind keeping Louis near. “If you’re staying out that late-”

“Whether or not I stay out late, it isn’t your responsibility to look after me.” Louis twists his arm and gets it away from Harry’s grip. “Bye, Harry.”

Louis never imagined an acquaintance and close friend of his to be as impulsive as Harry. He knew the man for five or so months but never got to see the side of him that made man into a monster. Harry said nothing when Louis walked off because in that moment he had nothing to defend himself with.

At four o’clock when the school was emptying out to prepare for the game, Louis was interrupted by a lad from his drama class who was once his partner for a mid-term project. He was surprised to say the least and just about managed a polite greeting before closing his locker, sketchpad and backpack in hand.

“Oh. Hi, Michael.” Louis smiled while distractedly shoving his pencil case into a pocket of his satchel. “What’s up?”

Michael is a six foot quarterback who crushed all stereotypes to smithereens. He is easily one of the most humble people in their school with his dusty combat boots and dress shirts. Above his charming outfit choices was a head of amber hair styled into nothing uniform on most days; as it stood it looked like Michael had just had a shower in the locker room and the water had caused his eyelashes to clump over sparkling navy eyes.

“Hey Louis.” The jock offered one brilliant smile that seemed to illuminate all his features along with it. He nodded at the boy’s belongings. “Need some help?”

“With all this, you mean?” Louis laughs, holding out his mere two possessions. “You’re sweet but if I let you carry my stuff people will think we’re married.”

Michael surrenders with his hands raised and whistles, impressed. “I don’t know anyone who can come back as good as you, Lou.”

“Yeah.” Louis feels those words strike an ill-prepared part of his emotions and some of the light leaves his face.

Michael notices of course and awkwardly clears his throat, starting down the hallway when Louis does. “Headin’ home?”

“Think so.” Louis confesses with a sigh. “Good luck for your game, by the way. Don’t let the captain talk you into staying on the bench.”

“He’s the captain but he ain’t the boss.” Michael chuckles, stuffing his hands into his pockets. Outside the weather is turning grey and crackling with the promise of a storm later tonight. “Christ. I don’t know if it’s a good thing that Coach will make us play tonight.”

“You’ll be okay.” Louis offers reassurance in a brief pat to Michael’s arm. He looks out at the parking lot and the visitors’ buses that are rolling in, momentarily distracted from the idle black SUV at the base of the staircase. “Damn it, Harry.”

The man himself is waiting patiently in nerve-wracking calm where he stood leaning against his vehicle, his arms folded and his ankles crossed. He had on a pair of aviator glasses that Louis borrowed when they drove to a bed and breakfast for the waffles. His ensemble included a poorly mended _Pink Floyd_ shirt that’s tucked into his waistband at the front, jeans that hugged his legs and were ripped at the knees. The noteworthy article of the entire organisation happened to be on his feet; rather than signature boots Harry wore black flip-flops.

He knew Louis hated flip-flops except when they’re worn at the beach and when used while driving, Louis could turn into a time-bomb of complaints.

“He here for you?” Michael questioned with a raised brow. Everyone knows Harry’s name and for reasons that were less reputable.

Louis imagined the brunette from this morning walking out the same doors he just had and her quick trip down the stairs to take a seat up front where he never would. Sitting there this morning broke tradition.

“Yeah probably.” He answered softly. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Michael-”

“Don’t think I’m coming in tomorrow, honestly. If I’m playing in this weather I’m gonna milk the benefits of claiming multiple sick days.” Michael jokes, but his tone carries none of the humour. He locks gazes with Harry over a great enough distance and turns so tense Louis can taste it with the winter air. “Was gonna ask you to stay and watch me play, you know.”

“Really?” Louis is taken aback. He offers an apologetic twitch of his lips to Michael before gesturing meekly to an awaiting Harry. “I’m sorry but I need to get home. When you get back to school, you can tell me all about the game. Bye, Michael.”

Harry says nothing when Louis approaches him, his jaw screwed tight and his eyes hidden by his aviators. He waits for Louis to be within a close range before pushing his weight off the side of his van and makes a precise grab for Louis’ arm. All he gathers is the boy’s shirt in his fist and gently draws him nearer when Louis tries walking in an alternate direction. Louis is turning away from all Harry’s attempts at a proper greeting but the latter is just content to have his boy in the circle of his arms.

“I’m not going to ask who that was because I don’t need to know.” He may look unaffected on the outside but Louis can feel the heat of Harry’s stare burning into him, and the unkind grip on his waist where Harry held him. “Associate with the bastard as much as you want but-”

“Save your breath if you’re about to tell me I can’t see anyone I want.”

Harry’s expression hardens, his fists curling at Louis’ sides. “You don’t _want_ to be with him, princess. You want to get back at me for this morning.”

“Driving someone to school isn’t crime.” Louis retorts, huffing when Harry’s hand curls around his neck.

“As long as that person is you, baby.” Harry places his free hand on Louis’ pert bottom, under the abundance of clothing Louis has falling off his shoulders. He pushes his glasses back on his head, and the emerald storm has abated. “Only you can ride with me because only you will help me change a tyre if we break down. My princess will be the only one to set foot in this ride who is loyal to me and not just my cock.”

Louis squirms against his captor for several seconds before relenting with a mumbled complaint. “That may just be true because I’m going to chop off your dick one day.”

Harry ignores his adopted violence and kisses Louis’ neck, roping his arms around the other. “No one will ever join our trips in the morning.”

“That wasn’t my point, Harry. You know you’re free to do whatever you want.”

“I thought so too until your gorgeous face turned out to be capable of unhappiness.” Harry pecked the tip of Louis’ nose with a megawatt grin, revealing all his perfect teeth. “No more, baby. I swear.”

Louis finally succumbed and let his forehead rest on Harry’s shoulder, trying innately to be discreet about how the familiar scent of one male fragrance and musk soothes him so. He playfully bit Harry’s shoulder. “Thanks, Styles. You can run a cab service if you want but when I’m in there both you and the van are mine.”

*    *    *    *    *

**Present.**

Louis had been surprised when, upon exiting the school hallways on his official last day among others who could care less about him and more about the way his belly has healthily rounded beneath all his borrowed sweaters, he finds Harry waiting already. Recently his fiancé – each time he thought of the title they shared Louis felt increasingly antsy – has been much too preoccupied with his work at the gym to be on time to fetch Louis.

Harry used to be a personal trainer at the most popular gym in town, undoubtedly made popular by his working there in his muscle shirts and ridiculous shorts. Now he juggled three high-paying clients only to take up the role of representative kickboxer. He fought every Friday in a nasty underground ring that Louis was only allowed to set foot in if he swore to wait in the locker room for the entire fight because the crowd got ugly when their champion was defeated. Harry hasn’t lost a fight in his five but Louis was still on the fence about the entire ordeal.

The fights brought in enough money weekly to afford groceries they could only buy once a month before, and already renting a two-bedroom apartment has become a viable option. For three nights they went back and forth on this decision of whether to let Harry partake in one of the most violent sports until the man promised he’d do nothing to jeopardise their family or allow the greed for money persuade his intentions. They could live like this until Louis had the baby and graduated comfortable; there is no need for excessive luxury.

On his way down the steps Harry comes jogging up the stout impediments to reach Louis first. He grabs his keys before they slip off his crooked finger and lets his arms find their way to Louis’ waist. “I know what you’re thinking, princess.”

Since he started fighting in the ring Harry has filled out every item of clothing he had. He was muscular before but never buff to the degree that Louis felt he was being smothered in their embraces. Nothing about the feeling of sheer protection and comfort abated now that Harry stood at well over six feet and allowed himself to turn as hefty in muscle as a lean bodyguard. Louis thought it made him something like an immortal.

“You always did.” Louis smiles into the kiss Harry plants squarely on his lips, hearing his own laughter when the latter reaches under his shirt to palm the curve of his belly.

Harry took Louis’ hands in his and frowned at how chilled they were. “Forgot your jacket and gloves again, baby?”

“I don’t feel cold.” Louis replies, following suit when Harry turns around. He knows the drill and rather than stubbornly walking beside the man, Louis acquiesces soon enough to perch himself on Harry’s back.

“How have you been feeling?” Harry is one much less bothered by the public eye and while Louis hides his face against the man’s collar, Harry boldly navigates them through the parking lot to his 1970 Ford Capri.

A week ago when Harry commemorated Louis’ milestone of hitting the four month mark, he went to the local mechanic and discovered for a small additional charge coupled with the exchange of his old SUV he could be the owner of a classic Ford model. The mechanic’s son was working that day and knew as little about cars as Louis did so the irreversible deal was made then and there.

“My ankles hurt a little and I’ve been thinking about hot chocolate with pickles all day.” Louis admits, sliding off Harry’s back to gracefully manoeuvre into the front passenger seat.

As it turns out, riding shotgun has its perks because now he can shout his own order to the speaker when they go through a drive-thru. Sometimes Harry got unhindered access to reach across and brush his fingers in no ordered pattern over Louis’ taut pudge. His boy’s belly has toughened in a slight stretch now to accommodate his wondrous baby bump, and Harry enjoyed more than anything those moments when he could feel the life growing beneath that skin.

“We don’t have hot chocolate.” Harry gets them out of the parking space and around a huddle of teenagers awaiting their ride. “Want me to stop at Reggie’s?”

Poor old Reggie’s twenty-four hour supermart is where they fulfilled all their late night or poorly timed needs. The mall was a drive from where they lived and Harry found that anything worth travelling that far for could be found with the eighty year-old shopkeeper who managed a quaint business across the street from them. Louis’ rainbow marshmallows and Harry’s shaving cream came from Reggie’s so often that the owner started keeping specific items aside for them.

“Maybe we should.” Louis flexes his toes in his shoes and longed to pry them off. “I need vapour rub for my chest.”

“I already got you some of that this morning.”

Louis glanced at his best friend through the corner of his eye. “Did you eat some of it already?”

“Princess.” Harry’s knuckles turned white against the steering wheel but Louis would not cease his laughter. “I apologised for that.”

“You did but only after I caught you putting the stuff on your tongue and under your nose for fun.” Louis soothed his taunt by stretching across the seat and pressing his lips’ to Harry’s tight jaw. He did enjoy the fact that this car had no console to separate the driver from Louis’ antics; Louis could sidle up against Harry as cosily as he wanted to earn forgiveness. “It was cute, I promise.”

“Yeah?” Harry brings them to a halt that is four intersections away from their street and ropes his arm around Louis’ shoulders just briefly. He tightens that hold until he can have his kiss, then release his boy. “Get back on your side, baby. I don’t want to pull over here.”

“You’re all talk sometimes, Styles.” Louis nonetheless scoots back into his proper seat. He yelps at an unexpected pinch on his inner thigh before Harry entirely releases him, a much too smug grin donned by his chiselled features.

Harry barked out a laugh when Louis rolled his eyes. “Not even you can say it isn’t mine anymore, princess. Your enlightenment is fuckin’ blissful, I must say.”

Louis lays his forehead against the cold window glass and allows the contrasting temperature to lessen a burn in his abdomen. “Shut up and buy me hot chocolate, Styles.”

They were in Reggie’s twenty minutes later between isles thirteen and fourteen, facing the impossible decision of which brand name hot chocolate to purchase. Harry had gotten his shaving blades from the pharmaceutical isle and stood holding matching canisters of hot chocolate, waiting patiently for Louis to decide. There were hardly many other patrons in the store except for a woman in search of porridge and them.

“What do you think?” Louis rubbed his belly in contemplation – an act that has become increasingly common for the boy and each time did something that made Harry hot all over.

Harry bit his lip and it bothered him that Louis didn’t seem to notice. “We’ll get both, princess.”

Louis made an unhappy sound and chewed on his thumbnail, looking up from the sealed cans to find Harry staring with burning intensity at him. “What did I do?”

“Nothing, baby. Nothing.” Harry set the options of purchases down to glance over his shoulder before grabbing Louis and reeling him in. He pressed subsequent kisses across Louis’ cheek until he reaches the boy’s lips.

“What-”

“Shh. Shh, baby.” Harry shakes his head minutely to silence Louis’ resistance.

He quickly sweeps Louis up off the ground and smothers his lips with a fervent union of their mouths, bending over forward just the slightest to balance Louis’ weight against him. Louis’ bulky jacket is hanging off his shoulders and Harry grips the ensemble together so he doesn’t have to forsake the taste of Louis’ little tongue flicking against his own.

“Hmm.” Harry slipped his hands lower and under the excessive flow of Louis’ shirt, digging his fingers into the boy’s bottom. He chuckled at Louis shaking free of one jacket sleeve to wind his arms easily around Harry’s neck. “Let’s buy both, princess. I have much to do to you when we get home.”

Louis brushes his fingers through Harry’s carless bun that held his signature curls back from his face. He felt heat creep up his neck and resigns himself to the fate of having Harry see him blush. Some part of him that was neglected before Harry came into his life twisted shamelessly and made the front of his pants tighter than it was all day. Blaming his pregnancy for being so affected by merely Harry’s words whispered sinfully into his ear would be unjust so Louis fists the lapels of Harry’s shirt, shuddering appreciatively when his fiancé initiated a sloppy trail of kisses up his throat.

“Take me home then, Styles.” Louis pecks the tip of Harry’s nose.

Harry squeezes Louis’ bottom, kneading the shapely firmness beneath the clothes that are all but hanging off Louis. “Call me your baby daddy sometime, princess.”

“Sure.” Louis cupped Harry’s cheek and dragged his thumb over the healing yellow remnants of the man’s bruise from his latest fight. “You’re not allowed to call me anything besides what you already do though.”

“Deal, princess.” Harry swiftly puts Louis on his feet and swipes the first can of hot chocolate off the shelf without thinking.

“Wait!” Louis pulls him back with both hands circling Harry’s wrist. “We haven’t properly decided yet. You can’t just take one at random.”

*    *    *    *    *

Neither Louis nor Harry considered whether their sex life would be something that took effort to evolve, given that they possessed one beforehand that ended on a bitter note. However these doubts are put to rest the instant they walk through the door and Harry is pushing him up against it, tearing through the buttons on his shirt while Louis tries not to giggle at his urgency. The man makes a throaty sound of desperation as he locks the door hurriedly but concentrates simultaneously on rendering Louis astride his waist.

Harry would never take Louis like that against the door – his boy deserved a soft bed at his back and pillows to scream into. He stalls for long enough that Louis is mewling against his mouth and slipping his hands below Harry’s waistline, causing a mild shiver when he grips the front of his crotch. Louis has his clothes pried off his body down to his tiny briefs that Harry despises for keeping the boy so modest. They stumble into the bedroom with Louis leading the way and Harry ushering him along at a speed more suitable to the discomfort in his pants.

Louis lets Harry stand idle at the food of the bed for as long as it takes a smouldering sense of adoration to overtake his features. His brows knit together in rapt concentration that confuses Louis, and Harry does little beyond unbuckling his pants.

“Something wrong?” Louis comes to kneel on the mattress where he will at eye-level with Harry, searching for doubt in those warm emerald eyes.

Harry shakes his head and that’s the end of it.

Louis squeals when he’s nudged back onto the disarrayed sheets and has Harry climb on top of him with predatorial grace, his heated gaze centred on Louis below him. Harry knows his way around Louis’ body and spends the larger part of an hour putting his lips on every spot of his boy’s skin that could trigger shudders or moans from their profound vulnerability.

He feels Louis writhe beneath him at the cruel nibbles and licking of his sensitive nipples, both trying to force Harry’s sinful mouth away but keep him poised perfectly where he was needed. Air grows thick in Louis’ lungs as does the blood in veins begin to sing with each torturous kiss from Harry along his arm. It’s something he did when they first fell into bed together, one of the many things that were reserved just for his boy; Harry let his damp lips graze a crucial path from the crook of Louis’ arm down to his wrist. He never wavered from the outline of Louis’ bluish veins until he got to where they seemed to branch off.

Harry paid mind to Louis’ belly, granting an abundance of kisses around the growing bump. Their first Polaroid camera ran out of film because Harry could never stop documenting daily the development of Louis’ pregnancy. He’d wait for Louis to exit the shower in his fluffy yellow towel and snap as many pictures as allowed before Louis banished him to another room. Eventually, Louis started taking clothes into the bathroom so he would not be subjected to a glamour shoot in which he was dishevelled and dripping water every time he ended a bath.

“You look like you’re about to fall asleep.” Louis muses, threading his fingers through Harry’s hair and redirecting his focus.

“I don’t think so, princess.” Harry sits up to make a show of pushing his pants down his legs, smirking at what is undoubtedly hunger reflected in them both. “The chance to get between these thighs comes but too rarely.”

Louis is thrown before he can make a smart retort; Harry has made himself comfortable down below and was appreciating the Louis’ nudity with his tongue on all the right places. “Are you s-saying I don’t put out e-enough?”

“I got you knocked up, baby.” Harry mouthed against Louis’ inner thigh, his lips already wet from having them rub incessantly against the boy’s pleasurable orifice. “I think you put out wonderfully.”

Thursday night is the least likely time they’d consider rekindling a flame that seemed to glow as soon as their bodies aligned. Harry remembers worshipping Louis’ body to earn the intoxicating collection of pleasured sounds that tumbled from his boy’s lips in any volume he wished. He smiles into their kiss when Louis starts mumbling about impatience, and allows his body to penetrate Louis’ tight warmth at the moment it would derive the most uncontrolled tremor that rocked their deepest means for arousal.

Harry liked to watch Louis as he rendered nothing but bliss in his boy; Louis’ expression would morph into one of pure pleasure that abandoned all self-consciousness. He rolled his hips into Louis carefully at first to find a rhythm and angle that would render Louis catatonic later. Pinning Louis’ hands to his sides by linking their fingers, Harry starts to build up a steady pace that has Louis biting his lip to keep in his screams.

“Don’t you dare, princess.” Harry’s teeth latched onto Louis’ bottom lip and tugged. “I want to hear you. All of you.”

Louis mewled and freed one of his hands to wrap around Harry’s neck, sliding his palm lower then to feel every quiver in the man’s back as the sculpted exterior flexed to manage his weight. Harry released a sharp breath at Louis’ gentle touch; others loved using their nails while Louis treated him with as much care as was reciprocated.

“Come on, baby.” Harry kissed Louis’ cheek and lowered his body to have their fronts in contact. He moved his hips faster, thrusting harder and deeper with each smooth motion; precision was forgotten as a skill when all Harry desired was to be as close to Louis as possible. “Give me you, princess. I got you.”

Louis fisted the thin cotton sheets under him as his back arched and Harry took advantage of the new position to turn crazed. He slammed into Louis’ heat and paused, grinding in slow circles to press deeper until it ached for them both. Louis was breathless, clawing at his back when the sensations were disastrous and crashing through him from the pit of his belly. His mouth was frozen in a dead scream, sweat gleaming on the planes of their skin as it also turned bright pink under Harry’s hands.

Taking care of Louis is an uncompromisable art that seizes Harry by the heart and threatens to self-destruct if he does not treat his boy exceptionally. He no longer fights that demon because Louis in close proximity to him is what silences its taunts, their bodies joined and savouring the other is a drug that incapacitates any heady evil. Harry kisses Louis and for those brief seconds everything goes silent, even the devil quietens so that they can revel in their connection.

Harry stares at Louis’ face etched with the aftermath glow of his orgasm, cradling the boy’s face in his hands to direct their less than organised kiss. Louis emits a satisfied sight that Harry let’s get to his head, grinning as Louis frees his limbs from the entangled sheets and drapes them in each a unique knot around him. The side of his face is brushed by Louis’ thumb and Harry is conflicted about which touch to respond to, but settles on Louis’ sweet lips.

“Should we have used a condom?” Harry breaks the silence with his empty quip, roaring with laughter when Louis hits him squarely on the face with a pillow. Before another attack, he snatches the offending object from Louis’ grasp and sits up with the boy on his lap. “We must not hurt the ones who plan to eat you out in the morning.”

Louis pouts at that but relents when Harry gathers him up naked in his arms. “Will you make me breakfast in the morning also?”

Harry hums, sliding off the bed and taking Louis with him. “I’ll even buy you that cake mixture you’ve been harping on about tomorrow.”

“Don’t patronise me.” Louis never has to close his eyes because the bathroom is too bright. Thirteen months ago the lightbulb blew out in there and Harry never bothered to replace it. “Aren’t you everybody’s favourite fighter tomorrow?”

“The guy I was supposed to fight forfeited so unless Ricky finds someone else willing to have their face pounded in, I’ve got the day off.”

Louis sits on the counter in waiting while Harry adjusts the temperature of the shower’s stream. “Who’s Ricky?”

“My manager.”

Surprised, Louis puts down the aftershave and hops off the counter when Harry stretches his arm out toward him. “You have a manager?”

“Course, princess.”

Harry has stayed to help Louis when he got into the bathtub that replaced a conventional shower drain for them. They never took baths due to water wastage or when they did the water skirted just above their navels. Harry used those memories as fuel to motivate him in fights; he’d give Louis and his baby a home where they could baths everyday with bubbles.

“You’re….getting pretty serious then, huh? With a manager and all that. I bet you even have groupies.” Louis looked up at his company, bumping his nose against Harry’s with a small smile.

“Wouldn’t know about that, baby.” Harry replies, letting Louis have most of the water that gushed out at them from a groaning pipeline. He’s smirking at his boy. “I don’t exactly stick around to sign autographs.”

“And don’t you dare start.” Louis was frightened by the entirely lacking humour in his words, and heard true earnest ring through. “You’re going to keep coming home to us, Styles. We don’t need a million dollars if it keeps you away from home.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for supporting this series. In such a short time it's done so well and I could not be more grateful. I do hope you continue to love what I write as much as I enjoy writing for you. Your feedback means the whole world to me. Suggestions and ideas are always welcome.


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